


Off the Wire

by wesleysgirl



Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-17
Updated: 2015-07-17
Packaged: 2018-04-09 18:00:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4358807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wesleysgirl/pseuds/wesleysgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Written as back-up for Zortified's Wesficathon, for JadeLennox.<br/>Thanks to Magpie for the encouragement and the title, and to Ginny for the beta.<br/></p>
    </blockquote>





	Off the Wire

**Author's Note:**

> Written as back-up for Zortified's Wesficathon, for JadeLennox.  
> Thanks to Magpie for the encouragement and the title, and to Ginny for the beta.  
> 

  
  
  
"You're late," Wesley said, not as an accusation, but merely an observation.  
  
"You're right." Giles didn't sound defensive. "Should I blame the traffic?"  
  
Wesley stretched in his chair a bit, then slid a glass of beer closer to Giles' side of the table. "I don't know. Was it the traffic's fault?"  
  
"I'd rather say it was the drivers' fault," Giles said, sinking down into a chair with a grateful sigh. "But actually, Buffy waylaid me at the door just as I was leaving, and you know how she doesn't want to deal with me having a personal life."  
  
"How is she settling in?" Wesley took another sip of his own beer, which was more than a bit too weak and cold for his liking.  
  
"All right, I suppose. I thought I'd see less of her once she moved into the dorms, but now that she and Willow are rooming together,  
it seems that one or the other of them is phoning me on a daily basis." Giles took a long drink and then set his glass down on the table with  
a small click. "But we're breaking the rules."  
  
Wesley raised his eyebrows. "No talking about *work,*" he emphasized.  
  
"Well it still feels like work," Giles grumbled. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the little table, and rubbed at his forehead  
wearily. "Just because I'm no longer being paid..."  
  
They'd been coming to this bar Wesley wanted to be able to call it a pub, but it wasn't, not really for the past few months. At first it had been the only place Wesley had to go that felt even remotely like home, and now that he was settled in L.A. that feeling had strangely grown stronger. Being with Giles was like being home or at least, had been since they'd settled whatever difference they'd had in Sunnydale.  
  
"Drink up and I'll get you another," Wesley said.  
  
"Money's not the issue," Giles said, not for the first time. "It's the lack of having anything productive to do with my time. When I was working..."  
  
"Now you're the one breaking the rules," Wesley pointed out quickly.  
  
"Bugger off," Giles said, draining his glass and raising a finger in the direction of the nearest waitress.  
  
Half an hour later, there were eight empty glasses vying for space on their table, mainly because Giles had refused to let the waitress take them away. He claimed that they were keeping track of how much they'd had to drink by the empty glasses.  
  
Darts had been proclaimed a very bad idea when Giles had missed a shot so spectacularly that a dart had ended up in another patron's drink.  
  
"One more game," Giles wheedled now.  
  
"No," Wesley said, sitting up straighter in an attempt to seem less drunk than he actually was.  
  
"Don't be such a spoilsport." Giles was frowning and staring into the empty glass closest to him as if wondering where the beer had  
gone. "What if I promise not to land any more darts in people's drinks?"  
  
"I'm more worried that you'll land one in someone's arse," Wesley said, blinking. He couldn't remember if they'd asked for another round or not, but none had appeared for some time, so it was possible that they were being cut off, not unreasonably.  
  
"That's not the only kind of dart I'd like to land in someone's arse," Giles said, with a much-less-controlled leer than he would have given if he'd been sober.  
  
"Right. Come on, let's get out of here." Wesley stood up, tossed some cash onto the table, and hauled Giles to his feet as well.  
  
"I'm going to have one hell of a hangover come morning," Giles said once they were outside in the cool night air. He had one arm slung over Wesley's shoulders and was nuzzling his ear.  
  
Wesley turned his head and kissed Giles, tasting the beer on his lips. "We both will. Good thing we don't have to drive back tonight."  
  
The little motel, which was a bit grubby but within the realm of acceptablility, was just next door. It was one of the main reasons they'd ended up choosing this place.  
  
It wasn't until he had trouble getting the key into the lock that Wesley realized he truly was very drunk. He squinted and tried again, but the key just didn't want to go in. "It's no good," he said, aware of the whiny edge to his own voice.  
  
"Here, let me." Giles took the key from him and unlocked the door. "I'm the expert at fitting things into tight spaces, after all."  
  
"You're terrible," Wesley started to complain, just before he found himself propelled inside the room and pushed up against the wall.  
  
Giles' mouth was on his, hard, bruising, and his foot kicked the door closed with a slam that made Wesley shiver, but not in a bad way. He'd  
grown a bit more self-confident since leaving Sunnydale, and yet being with Giles still had a tendency to throw him back to those first days,  
when he was still so terribly green, and yet desperately pretending that he knew everything.  
  
"Do you want me to fuck you?" Giles asked.  
  
"Not with a dart," Wesley managed to gasp, as Giles' hand found the front of his trousers and cupped his erection, rubbing it.  
  
Giles snickered, then kissed him again, still harder. "No, I was thinking I'd use my cock."  
  
"Oh good. Wouldn't like a dart." Wesley grabbed onto Giles' arse and pulled him closer. "Too small." He considered this. "Also, sharp."  
  
"We could always experiment," Giles said, grinding against him.  
  
"With darts?"  
  
A snort. "No, you berk. Other things." When Giles got drunk he tended to talk like this, losing the Oxbridge tones that normally made his voice crisp.  
  
"But not darts?" Wesley's own voice was back into the realm of anxious.  
  
Giles' hands struggled at Wesley's belt, unbuckling it and then unfastening his trousers, pushing them down. "No, not bloody darts." Giles  
looked around the room thoughtfully, if a bit drunkenly, and then grabbed the padded chair and dragged it closer. "Bend over and hold onto the back."  
  
Wesley did as he was told, his fingers gripping the rough upholstery. Seconds later he felt slick fingers teasing him, working him open without much gentleness. They were always too eager to be gentle, this first time.  
  
"So hard for you," Giles muttered behind him. "You want to feel it?"  
  
He groaned softly as Giles pushed another finger into him. "Yes. Please."  
  
First there was the tip of Giles' cock, just pressing into him, and then the hard shove as Giles forced his cock into Wesley. Blackness sparkled at the edges of his vision, his own erection wilting slightly at the necessary pain that came with too-infrequent fucking.  
  
"You know what I want to hear," Giles said.  
  
"Please fuck me," Wesley said automatically, obediently. He'd say anything to get this, and the begging just made it hotter. "God, Giles... so good."  
  
Giles pulled out and then pushed his way back in, angling his cock to hit Wesley in just the right spot, the one that made him cry out. "Should have had another drink," Giles said.  
  
Considering that Giles' breath still smelled strongly of beer, Wesley didn't think that was necessary. "Why? You're not drunk enough already?"  
  
The hand on his hip tightened. "I didn't mean me, I meant you," Giles said, thrusting in again and bringing his other hand up along Wesley's chest to rub a fingertip over Wesley's nipple.  
  
"Why? *I'm* not drunk enough already?" Admittedly, Wesley's head was spinning, but he wasn't sure if it was the alcohol or Giles' technique.  
  
"I was thinking I might get you to agree to some experimentation if you were drunk. Drunker. Bugger it, is that a word?" Giles pushed  
in deeper, and Wesley's grip on the back of the chair tightened.  
  
"I might..." Wesley gasped as Giles pinched his nipple, "...agree to the experimentation anyway, if you told me what it was."  
  
Giles snorted. "No fun that way. Have to surprise you."  
  
"So you want to get me very drunk so that you can have your way with me? How exactly does this differ from the current situation?"  
Wesley was confused, but honestly didn't care, because Giles was moving faster now, fucking him harder.  
  
"What if I said... that I wanted to... take you... in the car?"  
  
Wesley whimpered as Giles' hand closed around his cock. imagining them in the back seat of the car, in the parking lot. "Yes. Giles, more. Please."  
  
"You do know how to talk to me," Giles groaned, slowing down slightly in the way he always did just before he came. "Want me to fuck you right where anyone could see, is that it?"  
  
"Yes." Wesley trembled, wondering if his legs were going to continue to hold him up. "More. Fuck me harder."  
  
Giles did, slow and deep and hard, the hand on Wesley's cock mirroring his thrusts.  
  
"God. Giles, I'm going to come. Oh God..." Wesley heard himself groan, felt his cock throbbing in Giles' tight grip as he came.  
  
One more hard thrust, and Giles came as well, both of them panting for air and shuddering in the aftermath of their orgasms.  
  
"It's a good thing I'm not drunker." Wesley considered this for a moment. "No, I don't think that's a word. It's a good thing I'm not more drunk, or we wouldn't still be upright."  
  
It was only a mild complaint, but Giles shifted his weight back, pulling out of Wesley with what sounded like a sigh of contentment. "I hope that's not your way of saying we're done for the night."  
  
Together, they stumbled over to the bed, pulling back the covers and stripping off their clothes before collapsing onto the mattress.  
  
"Since when has once been enough?" Wesley ran a finger down Giles' chest.  
  
"Well we're not normally quite this drunk," Giles pointed out, kissing him again for the first time since the door had been kicked shut.  
  
Wesley slipped his arm around Giles' waist and moved closer. "You're dangerous with those darts, you know."  
  
"Oh, you think so, do you?" Giles growled playfully and bit Wesley's lower lip. "I'll show you dangerous."  
  
As Giles' hand moved down between Wesley's legs, Wesley closed his eyes and thought, _I hope so._  
  
  
  
End


End file.
